


make myself at home

by aflashofgreen



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, COVID-19, Coronavirus, F/F, Forced Cohabitation, Light-Hearted, Making Out, Netflix and Chill, Quarantine, Roommates, Sansa and Daenerys under quarantine K-I-S-S-I-N-G, more like coronavirus & chill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23169202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aflashofgreen/pseuds/aflashofgreen
Summary: Jon had dropped three bags filled with food and cleaning supplies on her kitchen counter two weeks ago, turned around, pointed at Daenerys and said, “She needs a place to stay, long term.” Sansa didn’t have time to berate him for bringing her five packs of disinfecting wipes or dumping his best friend on her.Sansa and Daenerys under quarantine.
Relationships: Sansa Stark/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 10
Kudos: 132





	make myself at home

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to @meereens on tumblr for her crucial input. Other than that, I really don't know what else to say. Don't panic buy, don't hoard and stay inside? Enforce social distancing (unless the person trying to get close to you is really hot, of course). WASH YOUR HANDS.
> 
> Title from the Chet Faker song of the same name.
> 
> Edit: Title was originally _talk is cheap_. Title now from I Think He Knows by Taylor Swift. Sorry for the confusion.

State of emergency, the city had declared. Indeed, Sansa thought. Only the most dire of circumstances could have lead her to spend time with Daenerys Targaryen. The girl had come from Dragonstone to visit Jon right as the outbreak turned serious here. As such, she wasn’t in a hurry to return to the island, which miraculously didn’t report any COVID-19 diagnoses for now, and risk bringing the virus home with her. Sansa’s timeline on Twitter was filled with videos of the chaos at airports, not to mention the brawls over toilet paper in grocery stores. Jon had dropped three bags filled with food and cleaning supplies on her kitchen counter two weeks ago, turned around, pointed at Daenerys and said, “She needs a place to stay, long term.” Sansa didn’t have time to berate him for bringing her five packs of disinfecting wipes or dumping his best friend on her. And really, what could she have said? Not my problem, fend for yourself? She was too polite and her flat was bigger than Jon’s. She could offer Daenerys a spare room with a bed instead of a couch in the living room, which is what she assumed was the girl’s logic for agreeing to this.

And so began their state-recommended quarantine.

Cohabiting with Daenerys was not so bad as long as Sansa pretended it wasn’t Daenerys Targaryen taking a shower in her bathroom, or brewing coffee in her kitchen. Jon’s aunt was clean, emptied the dishwasher, even tried to cook despite being shit at it, this last responsibility one Sansa had quickly taken over. Still, the first few days together had been extremely awkward. Sansa had kept to herself and Daenerys had spent her time on the phone. The girl had also offered to pay her for food and the like, but Sansa had refused her. Oh, someone was going to pay and that person would be her meddling brother, she thought, cursing him again for putting her in this predicament.

It only took four days for Sansa to grow restless. She was staying in her room most of the day in an effort not to run into Daenerys, but none of them knew how long this quarantine would last and Sansa was starting to feel like a bird trapped in a cage. Unfortunately, as she relocated to the living room, she realized Daenerys must have been trying to stay out of her way too — was still — and Sansa felt as restless sat on her couch than she did lounging on her bed, alone. Besides, it was bad manners to make others feel unwelcome in your home, and Sansa knew her courtesies too well.

When Daenerys came out of her room for a cup of tea, Sansa swallowed her pride to ask her to watch a film together.

A film, a show, a documentary… none required for them to speak, which was a key component to spending time together since the two of them could never hold a conversation that didn’t escalate into a weird reenactment of a high school debate contest and a power play ever since they’d first met. So the silence, she didn’t mind it, and the company, well her options were limited at present. Still it was hard to resent either when Sansa’s afternoons soon consisted of Netflix and Daenerys in the literal sense, and after a while, in the figurative, urbandictionary.com meaning of the phrase too.

Daenerys’ hand was trailing down her chest, reaching for the waistband of her legging when the doorbell rang through the flat, startling them.

“It’s probably Shae, my neighbor,” Sansa said in a voice that sounded shamefully out of breath. “I lent her that book, remember? She said she’d come by to return it today.”

Daenerys simply hummed against her lips. “She’ll come back later,” was her reply before returning her mouth to hers, kissing her just as hungrily as before the interruption. Sansa expressed her agreement by tangling her fingers in Dany’s soft hair, the other hand on her hip pressing her close again, but the bell rang a second time. On the coffee table, their phones vibrated successively, the screens revealing the same text sent by the same person.

_Don’t tell me you’re not home_

Sansa cursed Jon Snow for the countless time.

Getting off the couch with a grunt, she walked quickly to the door to stop him from breaking and entering or worse, keep ringing the bell and drive them mad. “How come we’re not allowed to go outside, but you are?” She didn’t try to hide her irritation as she let him step inside the flat with groceries.

“Mask.” He took it off and knitted his brows once he got a long look at her. “Sansa, are you alright? Are you ill?” The sudden worry in his voice was unexpected, just as his words were.

“What? No, I’m fine.” She swatted his hand away when he tried to take the temperature of her forehead. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Have you looked at yourself? You’re all flushed. What have you been doing?” Sansa felt herself blush even deeper.

Behind her, Daenerys’ voice answered Jon’s question over the sound of the telly in the background.

“Being a good hostess.”


End file.
